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All It Matters
The sound of metal, dragging across the wooden floor, filled the empty silence of the modern house. The girl alone, sat still. She quickly turned around and looked over the gray, couch with her icy-green eyes, placing her book down. Her burgundy dyed bangs of her brown, short, male-like hair covered at least less than half of her face. She looked around with her eyes and spotted no one in the room. Oddly enough, she was calm. She stood up and walked up the stairs of the house making her way quietly to her room. She grabbed the first thing in sight, a wooden baseball bat before maher way back down stairs. There it was again. The same metal, dragging across the floor. She held the bat high and looked around once again. Not spotting anything but a knife, on the floor, in the kitchen. It was a simple steak knife with a red, glossy handle. She looked around but saw no one. So she walked to the knife, picked it up and examined it, while leaning against the pantry. Nothing out of the ordinary. There it was again. But this time it sounded like paper, gliding across the floor. She looked down and saw a piece of paper next to her, bare feet. Looking around once again, she picked up the neatly folded paper and opened it. "You can't," Is what it simply said. It was scribbled in a sloppy matter. She flipped it over, "You're not alone in your house," The feeling of being watched, overwhelmed and filled her body with a burning sensation. It was only then, she realized where the piece of paper came from...It came from under the pantry door. It wasn't a walk in one either. She immediately knew what, who-ever gave her this note, wanted her to do. Swinging open the pantry door and ducking down to her knees, as quick as she could, she looked into the pantry and saw nothing. She gulped and turned around on her toes. Still kneeling down, She looked around once again but saw nothing. Her German started to bark rapidly, followed by a crash upstairs; the sound of glass breaking and heavy foot steps to be exact. Her palms began to sweat as she gripped the bat in one hand, and the knife in the other. The first thing she did was dial 911. She quietly spoke into the phone, not caring if the intruder heard or not. Sure enough, they did. One thing she noticed, was that there was now more than one pair of foot steps. And they got quicker by the second. Three. There's three She thought to herself. The operator on the phone began to speak but she ignored them. Quickly, three men in black, came crashing down the stairs. The two, in the back had guns, 22 pistols. While the one in the front had a pocket knife. It looked to be plain silver. There was a moment of silence between the four. She dashed to the left, opposite of the men, and around the kitchen island. They shot their guns at her, missing each shot but one. The bullet pierced clean through her thigh and light brown, cargo shorts, causing her to gasp and tumble to the floor. Dropping her weapons in the act. The men rushed towards the girl; she used all she had to pull herself up and limp away from them as fast as she could. Police sirens were heard in the distance. One of the men grabbed her by the hair and slammed the side of her head against the wall, on a light switch. Everything went blurry. That same burning sensation, filled her head. It was stronger this time. She side-kicked the guy that had her by her hair in the gut while the others fumbled to get to her. She dodged, and made her way behind them. She kicked one down, causing him to land face first onto the silver pocket knife. Killing him instantly. The last guy standing, put her in a head lock. She quickly elbowed him in the gut and flung him over her shoulder. Popping him in the nose, breaking it. Bending it in a way it shouldn't be bent. Police rammed through the front door with their guns up and aimed. The girl stood there and rose her hands. Police walked in and towards the girl. They cuffed the two men. The men both looked rather petrified as they glanced at the girl. She smirked and walked out with two of the police officers. She later realized that those men were her friends...But the feeling. That feeling she had. The feeling of hurting someone, made her feel something she hasn't felt in a long time. Excitement. "Ma'am, whats your name?" An officer asked. ". . . Billie Sakez," She replied with wide eyes. The officer shifted in his stance and wrote down what he needed to. ~~~ "Last night, the actions of Billie Tim Sakez, ended with one man out of three, dead. The men were later arrested upon the police's arrival for attempted murder. They claim to have told officers that her fighting wasn't in self-defense. Billie rests, now, at a hospital due to minor injuries. That's all for this topic, now, about that weather-" The female reporter was interrupted by the click of a remote. The TV turned off at Billie's command as she laid in the hospital bed. She let out a sigh and watched as a nurse walked in with her parents and brother. She held Billie's clothes. Her knee length, shorts and long, blue soccer socks, were clean of blood and rips. Along her dark gray hoodie. "Where were you guys?" Billie said in a raspy voice. Her throat was dry due to the loss of blood and dehydration. " I got home, and you were all gone," she added. "Honey-" "I know where you were Mom. At the local bar perhaps...? Dad? Abraham?" She snapped. "All that matters, is that you're okay," Abraham spoke with a smile. "I wasn't blaming you guys. I was just wondering...Why are you guys always gone?" Her voice had a hint of distress in it. No matter how much she hated it when people saw her sad, or just weak in general; Just this one time, She thought. She was often home alone. If she wasn't she was either with her drunken mother, or abusive brother. . .But she hates herself when it's quiet. And hates herself more when she's alone in the quiet. ~~~ The days pass and Billie is removed from the hospital. She arrives at home. Her father decided to stay from work so the two could catch up. The day went by, and all Billie could think about was her past actions. She smiled the whole day at the thoughts. But her smile was a, some-what of an, anonymous one; Her parents weren't sure how to react to her, ear-to-ear grin. "Billie, stop eating your sour-patch, and go to bed," Her father chuckled. Billie scoffed and followed her directions. She saved the rest for later. For she would need them for after she fulfilled her plans. ~~~ The moon was bright and the stars shimmered in the night. A jingling noise came from the kitchen downstairs, signaling, nothing would be right,tonight. Abraham woke up and fumbled out of his warm bed. He walked down stairs, approaching the noise with no care. Billie pulled him into a head lock from behind. One tight enough to break his wind pipes in an instant. He tumbled back with gags, landing on top of her, but she kept her hold. He clawed at her arms as she whispered. Two. Single. Words. "You can’t," He quickly took his final breath, after choking on his own blood. Her dog, K-9, started to rapidly bark once again. This alarmed her parents. They sprung down stairs, only to see the dead corpse, in the middle of the living room, with Billie towering over it. Her mischievous grin was spread across her face like she was a kid at some amusement park. Her father made a run for the house phone. Billie threw her knife into his shoulder, harshly jerking him into the counter. Plunging the knife deeper into his skin. Sirens were heard in the distance, but Billie didn't stop until what she started was finished. Lets just say, Billie enjoyed gutting her own parents. Category:Creepypasta stories Category:Narrative Category:Murderer Category:Deceased Parent(s)